Seeing Beyond
by Wings of Indigo
Summary: My name is Samantha. I may look ordinary- but appearances are deciving. I can See the things most people scorn, and I can feel the shadows following me. For four years I had no home, running from the shadows and what they meant. But that changed... and so did I. This is my story.
1. Preface

**Well, I saw Rise of the Guardians yesterday, and have been reading the fanfiction for a while. I admit to getting bit by the fanbug. (Yes, I think JF is hot. To quote tumblr- 'I really need to stop falling in love with animated characters'!)**

** So, here I go. Fair warning- later chapters may be rated T for swearing, but I put up warnings. Will probably be Jack x OC, eventually, but I don't want that to be the main focus. **

**Thanks for Reading- and Review!**

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_Not so long ago, but in a time you can probably barely remember, I was like you. I was normal, ordinary. Someone who would pass you on the street, or sit next to you on the bus, and never know your name. Someone who passed through the world, uprooted and seeing, but never touching. _

_I once believed with all my heart and soul in the figures that all children revere, as all children do- and then I forgot that belief, as do most children when they grow. I became just another average being, unnoticed and unremarked. _

_But appearances can be deceiving. Children grow up, but legends live on- as long as they are believed in. And you're never too old to believe- so they say. _

_I was born with the ability to see things unseen- those same legends and tales you read in books and hear about before your mother tucks you in. And I was born with a destiny. _

_I never accepted my fate- or my gift. I cursed the sight that forced me to see the magic I could never touch; ran from it and the world that took all I cared about from me. _

_But destiny has a way of catching up with you- and legends are born, not made. _

_This is my story. _

_I know you must be eager to read this, if you've gotten this far, but for most of my life, I never felt what I saw worth mentioning- and I never wanted to think about my past. Reader- don't skip this introduction. You'll understand this story better. For every story has a beginning- and I'm afraid the pages to come start in the middle._

_I lost my parents early- or, rather my mother and my family. I never knew my father, not then, anyway, and not for a long time. I was twelve the night our house burned down, the only one to escape, and not unscathed. _

_The blaze consumed my mother, my grandmother, my home, and left my legs and feet scarred with the means of my escape. But I'm ahead of myself. I never was very good at patience. _

_My mother was nineteen when she had me; unemployed and without a partner to show for her pregnancy. So she scraped by- went on welfare and returned home her own, slightly less poor, mother. The house was old and from the forties, run down and ancient, but it was a house and not an apartment or the street._

_Thus, in due time, I was born, and for the majority of my life there I called home. I can't say, really, if I was happy or not-certainly we were poor- but I was loved and that was enough. _

_But one night, that disappeared- the night of the fire. The investigators never could determine what triggered it, but the blaze quickly spread from the ground floor to the second, cutting off escape. I remember the twisted shadows on the walls, and my mother's voice alternately begging with someone and screaming for me to run. I must have gotten out of the window, for I remember running across the roof, my feet burning on the superheated tiles and flames licking at my legs before I fell into a rescuer's arms. _

_I spent the next few weeks or so in the hospital- and the next four years being shunted across the country from one distant relative to another. I was lucky, though. I escaped the foster system and all of its lurking horrors. _

_But no one ever took me long. After all, who wants a teenage misfit who barely speaks to anyone over her own age, when your own home is crowded with kids? _

_And even when a permanent home was offered, I never accepted it- I ran so far and so fast from the gift I was cursed with and the shadows that followed me, I never had time._

_But Destiny has a mind of its own. You can't escape it, no matter how you try- and mine found me on one momentous day; a day that seemed like any other. _


	2. Chapter 1: The Urban Wasteland

**God- this took forever to write! I must have re-writen this chapter five times before it finally sounded right. But here it is- fastest turnaround on an update I've ever had. **

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_Social Services is quite possibly the most boring place on the face of the earth._

That thought drifted across Samantha's mind as she stared at the plain white wall across from her uncomfortable office chair, ignoring the drone of her social worker, in what she had long ago dubbed one of the crown jewels of the urban wasteland- Social Services.

The suffocating tiny conference room was painted a harsh, uncompromising white, and the floor was carpeted in an unimaginative shade of industrial gray. There weren't even any windows to provide some natural light- the florescent overhead reigned supreme, sucking any shred of color out of the drab landscape.

She sighed, turning her head to face the ceiling, and ignoring the pause in conversation and the disapproving looks the two other conferring adults in the room sent her.

With her legs tucked up on the left arm and supporting her head on the right arm of the chair she had selected, absent mindedly spinning herself in slow little half circles, she was the picture of boredom.

Beside her rested a beaten-up cardboard box and a cheap, fraying duffel bag- and across the table, both her social worker, Mitchel, her uncle, guilty looking, balding man in his fiftes, and another person she didn't know were discussing what was, in effect, her future for the time being.

One would think Sam would be more interested in their conversation. In truth, she'd heard it all before. The excuses her relatives made, the pleads Mitchel would attempt to employ, and the talk of who would take her in.

_Oh, screw it. I'm getting a soda. This is making me thirsty. _

Without a word, Sam unhooked her legs and stood up, walking toward the door.

"Sam!" Mitchel said disapprovingly, interrupting the stranger mid-sentence. "Where are you going? We're busy, here. And it's rude to leave in the middle of a conversation."

Sam turned around, tossing her hair over her shoulder and out of her eyes. "I'm getting a soda. You don't need me here to decide where I'm being shipped to next._ I_ have no say, certainly."

Mitchel sighed in resigned defeat, while her uncle looked stricken. "Go on, then. _I'm_ certainly not going to stop you."

Sam nodded curtly, but gave him a quick and rare smile before darting out into the narrow hallway. Mitchel was a nice guy- for a social worker. He did care about her, on the surface at least- and he tried not to be too demanding, to be supportive. But he was just an extension of the broken life Sam lead, and try as she might, her hate for that life often spilled over onto him.

Briskly, glad to be out of the tense atmosphere of the conference room, Sam walked down the hall to the vending machines. Rifling in the pocket of her cotton anorak, she dug out a couple of crumpled dollar bills and fed them into the single soda machine.

_I guess some people don't like sugar. _Sam thought with a smirk. _Maybe that's why most of them look so sour all the time. _

Pleased at her pun, she scanned the small selection- water, coke, diet coke, sprite, root beer. Frowning with disgust at the lack of selection, Sam punched the button for Diet Coke, and waited as the machine spit out the soda.

Grabbing the bottle from the machine, Sam sat at one of two small tables set up for employees. Gently, she placed the bottle on the table before placing her hands and forehead onto the formica surface, eyes closed. She _hated_ these meetings- and she wasn't going back in there until they made her.

Samantha, or Samantha Abigail Broulet, as it said on her records, was no stranger to social services and the boredom therein. She'd been in them all the way from California to Maryland, shunted from relative to relative ever since- Samantha shuddered. Ever since the fire.

She was a unique case in Social Service's files- while none of her extended family would accept full legal custody, they were happy to take her in- for brief periods varying from three months to half a year. The longest she'd ever stayed in one house was eight months.

_But it could have been worse. As unlucky as I am, I'm lucky._

Her frequency in social offices had acquainted her with the realities of the foster care system. She'd seen them to many times to count- the kids, a garbage bag full of all they owned at their feet, wearing clothes to loose for their skinny bodies and expressions of either defiance and hatred or broken defeat.

At least she had relatives who cared _enough_ to save her from _that_. And as much as they avoided her, at least they accepted her as _family_. Her only possessions- the duffel bag and cardboard box still in the conference room and their contents- came from them and their belated gifts.

_On that note, I wonder who I'll be mailed off to this time. Whoever it is, the guilt everyone's going to feel at kicking me out again is probably going to ensure I stay at least past Christmas._

_This is what, the fourth home in six months? Can't say I blame Uncle Todd though. What with it being almost September- he has what, three kids of his own, and his girlfriend's four to provide for? Getting seven kids ready for school is enough, without another girl on top of it. _

Mentally, Sam ran down the list of family members who she hadn't stayed with in a while.

_Oh, please don't let it be Aunt Georgia. Last time I stayed with her- shudder. I spent three months trying everything possible to get out of the house. Ladylike does not agree with me. _

She was about to go on, but at that moment, Mitchel's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Are you planning on coming back at all, or were you hoping I'd forget about your rather rude exit while I tried to get your uncle to take you back for the week?"

Samantha raised her head a bit and cracked open one eye. "I wasn't until now. Do I have to go back?"

Mitchel snorted. "Would I be here if you did?"

"Yes."

"Fair enough, I suppose. But we're done for now-and I brought you your stuff." He dropped the duffel bag at her feet and set the box down next to it, a bit more carefully.

"Thanks." Sam set her head back down on her hands.

"You okay?"

Sam closed her eyes again. "Just tired. I haven't slept well lately. Stress, I suppose." It was true that she hadn't slept well- heck, Sam hadn't slept well for months, likely even years. And she could hardly admit why.

How could she tell Mitchel, as nice and concerned and ordinary as he was, about what she saw on a daily basis- and about the shadow horses that followed her when she was alone? About the dreams of her mother begging and pleading for mercy as her daughter ran- and about the dream that had tormented her since childhood, the nightmare that had no end and no beginning; the nightmare that was simply _fear_, pure and unadulterated.

Ever since she could remember, she had been able to see things other people couldn't. The shadows that moved as she passed by- the hummingbird that had collected a friend's lost tooth on a sleepover, the golden sand that had shimmered above her playmates' heads as they slept at that same slumber party, and the soft blue shimmer that had sometimes coated snowballs thrown from nowhere on an unexpected snow day.

But, most of all- the girl she knew as Amay, who not even her friends who believed steadfastly in the Tooth Fairy and her counterparts could see. The girl she still knew- but now as the May Queen, and her best friend, the immortal companion she could never be parted from.

She opened her eyes to Mitchel's blond good looks- the sort of thing you'd expect in a California surfer, not a Michigan based social worker who happened to take on the role of champion for the most misfit girl ever to cross his path. No, she couldn't ever tell him that.

"Alright." He said, concerned. "Just wanted to let you know, you're spending the night at a safe house. Your uncle can't take you, or so he claims, and we can't find anyone else on such short notice… especially since your Aunt Georgia's in the hospital."

Samantha sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whatever deity had caused that.

"How long to I have to stay here until we can go?"

Mitchel shrugged. "Not long. I just have one more case today. She's getting adopted, finally- but she may end up joining you tonight. Some freak snowstorm knocked out power at her adopter's home and they can't make it. So I've got to tie up her lose ends before I drop you off."

Sam made a noncommittal gesture. All of Mitchel's cases seemed to get adopted- all except her. But then, that was her crazy family's fault, not his.

"Fine- you know where to find me. One question, though- how long do you think I'm going to be placeless?"

Mitchel shrugged. "Not long, I think. We're working on it- and your uncle claims he knows someone who'll take you in for him."

"Really?" Sam asked, interest piqued. "Who?"

"I'm not sure. Some friend of your mother's, l think."

"Oh." Sam's momentary hopes deflated. "Well, go on. I'll be here if you need me."

She closed her eyes again, and felt Mitchel rest his hand on her shoulder in an attempt at encouragement. "Don't worry. It'll work out."

Sam sighed heavily as he lifted his hand and walked away. When she was sure he was gone, she opened the bottle of Diet Coke and took a sip.

_Yeah, right. It never does._

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**Okay. Can anyone see where this is going? Maybe yes, maybe no-?**

**Review and tell me!**

**PS: Five favorites and seven follows within four hours of publishing is a new record for me- thanks to all who read this! I know there are some good ROTG fics out there with much better summaries, and I thank everyone who stopped and looked. **


	3. Chapter 2: To Be Unwanted

**Wow- lots of reviews/favs/alerts for three days. I'm amazed, and grateful. I refuse to hold chapters hostage to reviews, so a special thank you to all who review and boost my self confidence, and another thank you to everyone who reads this in general. **

**I know my summary sucks- anyone who wants to try their hand at writing a better one is welcome to. PM me and we'll talk. Thanks!**

**PS: Next chapter will feature both Amay and MiM. Jamie will come in soon- but I'm still waiting on Jack. I assume he'll make an appearace when he feels like it. **

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She dozed, drifting in between sleep and hazy awareness. Thoughts drifted across her mind, but thankfully no darkness intruded- she was alone in her consciousness. Then, something- a discord went across the smooth flow of thought. Roused, she sat up, rubbing at one eye.

Sam's ears caught the sound of soft crying. Instantly alert, she got up and quietly followed the sound to its source- a small waiting area just off the main hall. At first glance, it appeared to be empty- but as Sam turned to leave, she spotted a small flash of blond hair.

A little girl, of perhaps about six or seven but looking much younger, was wedged in the one corner hidden from plain view. Instantly, Sam knew she couldn't just ignore this girl. Softly, she lowered herself to sit cross-legged in front of the girl's hiding space.

"Hey. What's wrong, then?" She pitched her voice to be gentle and reassuring- she did have some experience with younger kids, being saddled with babysitting for her host relatives fairly often.

The girl looked up at her with wide, surprised eyes, crying momentarily stopped. "Who're you?" She said suspiciously, rubbing at her red-looking nose with one hand.

Sam smiled at the girl, trying to project an air of trustworthiness- young enough to understand, old enough to comfort.

"My name's Sam. What's yours?"

The girl looked at her oddly. "But that's a boy's name!"

Sam suppressed the urge to laugh. "Well, my real name's Samantha, but most people call me Sam 'cause it's easier to say." _And bark across a room, or from down the hall- "_What's your name?"

The girl sniffed and eased up into a semi-interested sitting position. "Emily. I'm seven."

"Oh. That's a good age to be- I'm sixteen." Sam smiled at seeing the girl's eyes widen.

"You must be a grown-up then! You must know all kinds a'stuff! " Emily said, eyes wondering in awe at the sight of someone so much older than herself.

"Well, not quite. But I do know that when someone's crying something's wrong. What's wrong, Emily?"

The little girl folded her hands and looked down at her lap. "You wouldn' understand."

Sam raised an eyebrow, which made Emily giggle. "Really? I'm almost a grown-up, remember? You can tell me." She said soothingly, opening her arms for the little girl to emerge out of her corner. "Come here- I promise I won't tell anyone."

Emily looked at her with all the endearing seriousness a child can muster. "Cross your heart?"

"Cross my heart," Sam said seriously, miming an 'X' with her right hand.

Emily considered for a moment before scooting closer to the older girl. "Mitchel said tha' my new parents were gonna be here today. He _promised_. An' now they're gone. They don't want me anymore, an' they're gonna leave me like daddy did, with Mitchel, and- and-" The girl broke down into tears again.

"Oh, honey." Sam said, sympathy for the little girl swelling as she scooped her onto her lap easily. The girl weighed next to nothing!

For several minutes, Sam just let her cry, this time with the comfort of being held. As she did so, her mind was racing frantically.

This must be the girl Mitchel had mentioned before- the one whose adopters had gotten caught in the freak snowstorm several miles away. Poor chit- she thought it was her fault; that she was going to be dumped and forgotten again.

"Hey." Sam released the girl a bit, meeting her eyes fully. "That's not true. Your new parents are on their way; they're just a bit late, I promise."

Emily sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve. "How do you know?"

Sam smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way. "'Cause I know things. And I know Mitchel, too."

"You do?"

Sam eased the girl off her lap and onto her feet, kneeling before the little blonde. "'Course I do. I just saw him a few hours ago. And he told me that your new parents were late, and because of that, you might have to spend the night with me. How's that, huh?"

Emily eyed her doubtfully. "Really? Cross your heart it's true?"

Sam smiled at the little girl's distrust, but inside, a few tears sprang to her eyes. It wasn't fair that a seven year old would be so used to adult's betrayal that she would doubt anything she was told.

She forced the tears back before replying. "Tell you what. Let's go find Mitchel and he can tell you himself. Alright?"

Emily smiled again- a real smile, one that lit up her really rather pretty little face into something beautiful. "Alright."

Sam took the little girl's hand and ducked under a small end table to retrieve the girl's small bag of possessions. "Is this everything?"

Emily nodded.

"Good. So let's go find Mitchel, okay?"

"Okay." The little girl agreed, if not with enthusiasm, then at least without reluctance.

But first, before she started the search for their social worker, Sam retrieved her abandoned soda bottle and her own possessions. She handed Emily back her own little backpack of clothes before slinging the duffel bag over one shoulder, and hefting the box onto one hip, praying the aged cardboard wouldn't decide to give way then and there.

Sam eyed the soda for a moment, before deciding to leave it there. There were more important things, after all, than that one bottle.

Now fully situated, Sam took Emily's hand again, smiling at the little girl. "Ready?"

"Ready!"

The pair walked around for a bit, Sam holding Emily's tiny, delicate hand in her own. The little girl looked surprisingly delighted with her company- _probably happy to finally have some attention to herself_, Sam thought bitterly. However, it wasn't long before they found who they were looking for.

"Oh, so _you_ found our little runaway." Mitchel said, when he saw Sam- and who she was holding hands with. The smile he directed at Emily softened the slight rebuke.

Shyly, the little girl ducked behind Sam, eyes peeping out at the social worker. Sam laughed. "Come on, Emi. Mitchel's a nice guy, remember."

Slowly, Emily nodded, and came back out. Sam looked down at the girl who's hand she was still holding seriously. "And, for the record, good choice to run away." Emily's face broke into a delighted smile.

Sam turned back to Mitchel. "So, what's the story? Where are we staying tonight?"

Mitchel sighed, running one hand through his hair. "Well, Emily's adopters phoned to say they just got their power back, so they'll be up here tomorrow-" Sam nudged the little girl, as if to say _see? I told you so._ "-and, your uncle, Sam, finally got ahold of whoever he was trying to call. She said she'd be happy to take you in, but she'd like to meet with you first, so she'd be up here tomorrow, too."

Sam blinked in surprise. "That was fast. Do I know her?"

Mitchel shrugged. "I don't think so- but your uncle said she was at the funeral, so-" he coughed awkwardly. "Well, more important things. The shelter says they can put you two up for the night- as long as there's no complaints about room-sharing-?"

Sam looked down at Emily, who looked like Christmas had come early. Sam grinned- but the grin was covering, rather convincingly, the betrayal she felt at this update. "Well, no complaints here. Are we taking your car?"

Mitchel nodded. "We can leave now- In fact we probably should."

Sam sighed in relief. "_Finally._"

The odd little group made their way out back, to the staff parking lot, and Mitchel's unimpressive green Mazda.

Sam looked at the beat-up car distastefully. "Mitchel, you _really_ need to get a new car. Seriously- how many years have you had this thing?"

Mitchel smiled, unfazed by Sam's derision. "Longer than you've been around, probably. I like this car."

Sam snorted. "Well, you've certainly had it longer than I've been continuously shipped cross-country. You sure we're not going to break down in the middle of nowhere?"

Mitchel raised his eyes to heaven. "You ask that every time. As far as I know, we have not broken down yet. And besides, there's no nowhere to break down in. So load your girl's stuff up and get in."

Sam nodded, and set to work loading her own luggage in the trunk. Emily buckled herself in, but refused to let her own bag out of her sight. Sam could sympathize- and she let her keep it without a word.

When everything was loaded, Sam hesitated just a moment before getting in. "Mitchel?" She asked quietly.

He glanced up from the driver's side of the car. "Yes?"

"Can I say good-bye, or did- did my uncle already leave?" Sam's voice quavered a bit. She knew the answer- but she fervently hoped that this one time, this _one_ time, she would be wrong.

Mitchel's eyes were sad as he shook his head no. "I'm sorry, Sam- but he left right after he told me about Mrs. Bennet, and signed the all the custody paperwork."

"Oh." It was all she could manage to say, what with the lump in her throat and the threatening tears in her eyes. Silently, she slid into the passenger's seat, blinking back those same burning tears. She rubbed at her eyes as Mitchel started the engine, ruthlessly forcing back the looming emotional storm- at least externally.

Internally, though, as they set off for the shelter on a beautiful August day, Sam's heart sobbed with betrayal and loss. And, once again, the reminder that she wasn't wanted.

Why, why, did they have to do this to her now? Sam could understand her relatives shipping her back and forth between each other like an unwelcome Christmas fruitcake- she didn't like it, but she could understand the reasoning. But to ship her off to a total stranger, now, because no one was willing to consider taking her- the cold, uncaring, _unfeeling_ nature of the act stabbed at her. They were her family- and she was part of them- related by blood, not just by marriage or by law. But, apparently, that wasn't good enough. _She_ wasn't good enough.

Sam choked back a sob, reminding herself not to cry in front of other people- people who weren't Amay. It did no good- and it made you look weak.

A light touch on her arm surprised her. Startled, and still rubbing tears out of her eyes, Sam turned around to see Emily reaching for her hand. Emily had a surprisingly mature expression of empathy on her face, for a girl so young and vulnerable looking.

Cautiously, Sam extended her hand back, to within the little girl's reach. Emily held it firmly for a moment. "It's okay. It'll be okay." She said, trying to return the comfort Sam had offered her.

Touched, Sam squeezed the little girl's hand. "Thanks," she whispered, before turning back around and withdrawing her arm. Momentarily reassured by Emily's genuine words, Sam turned her thoughts away from her crappy family and toward the future- and all the worries itself brought.

_Bennet- _

Sam tossed the name around in her mind, gazing out at a landscape gilded by the setting summer sun, as she drove away from her family, and into the unknown.


	4. Chapter 3: Freinds of Spirit

**Whoo! Superlong chapter- and we meet Amay, the May Queen. Next chapter is MiM, Jamie, and Mrs. Bennett- looking forward to that! Show your support- R&R, please. I really appreciate all the love I am getting from this fandom- you guys are amazing.**

**Notes: Amay calls Sam '_mo chroí dheirfiúr'. _That's my attempt at Irish Gaelic- it is intended to translate as 'my heart-sister'. **

**Also, I attempted to get and Irish accent for Amay- not sure how that worked. Just imagine a thick Irish brogue, and that's how Amay sounds when I reference her 'accent'.**

**Last- the 'Legends' are just the term I've decided to use to reference all of the fantasical spirits and creatures who aren't Guardians. Since both the groundhog and the leprechaun are referenced in the movie, i think it's safe to assume their are at least as many spirits as holidays. **

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Pennsylvania was alright, Sam thought after an hour of driving through both developed and more rural areas. Michigan might have been her home, but this was pretty close.

And, as much as she hated to admit it, the leaves just beginning to turn, setting the tops of the trees afire, were even more beautiful than what she could dimly remember from her home state.

Sam turned her gaze away from the window for a moment to look in the rearview mirror- and saw Emily, fast asleep. She looked so adorable, and innocent, that Sam had to smile at her. But there was no golden sand drifting around her- which was interesting.

_Hmm. You would assume that, if everyone dreams as they sleep, that they dream anytime they sleep. I wonder why-_

Sam's thoughts were interupted by a jouce as the car bounced through a pothole. Attention diverted, she could see a large, partial brick structure through the windsheild. Intrigued, she studied the building as Mitchel found a space in the unpaved lot and put the car in park. Without a word, as she was used to the drill by now, Sam unbuckled her seat belt, and slid out.

"I's just gonna get something to sleep in and I'll leave my stuff in your car, that alright?" Sam called to Mitchel as she shut the car door.

He shrugged. "Save us time in the morning." He went around to the rear of the car to unlock the trunk for her. "I'll be inside getting things sorted. Bring Emily with you. okay?"

"Like I'd forget," Sam muttered to herself. "Alright," She agreed, loud enough for Mitchel to hear.

"Thanks." He opened the trunk, and set off through the gravel parking lot for the front doors.

Sam fished through the duffel bag for a bit before coming up with sweats and a camisole. Rolling the clothes up and holding them with one hand, she zipped the duffel bag back up and slammed the trunk shut- perhaps a bit harder then nessecary.

"Well, someone's mad." Sam jumped and spun around, eyes widening and her face breaking into an enormous smile when she saw who it was.

"Amay!" Sam -almost- shreiked with joy, running over to hug her freind. Smiling equally wide, but a bit more restrained in her enthusiasm, the May Queen returned Sam's hug.

If anyone could have seen them together, besides Sam herself, they would have sworn the two were proof of the idiom 'opposites attract'. Amay was tall, athletic, and curvy, with long, waist lenth golden hair, a California tan, and green, new-leaf eyes. Sam was average height, skinny, and 'delicately' built, with shoulder length dark hair somewhere between brown and black, pale skin, and silver eyes. Amay thought she was about nineteen, physical age wise, and looked older- Sam was sixteen and looked younger.

They were like day and night- but ever since the twelve year old Sighted Sam had fled the funeral of her parents, only to find the then much older May Queen, they had been best freinds.

Sam allowed herself to relax a bit, finally, in her freind's embrace- ever since the fire, that had been 'home' more than anything else.

"It's been so since I saw you- the last time you said hi was in July." Sam said, finally pulling out of the hug. "Things been going well?"

Amay nodded, making the few flowers she wore in her hair dance. "As well as could be expected. Washington got a dry summer for once. How's stuff with you?"

Sam shrugged- and Amay realized where they were. "Oh," she said sympathetically. "Your family's kicking you out again?"

Sam nodded, moving around to the rear passenger door where Emily still slept. "They're making me go live with someone I've never met- the Bennets or something. But I can't complain. I've still got a week before school starts."

Amay's face was solemn. "You don't fool me, Sam. It sucks, and I know it." Amay caught sight of Emily as Sam opened the door. "We'll talk later, if you want to. Take a walk after dinner. I'll find you." Amay walked over to a young tree on the edges of the parkinglot. She laid one graceful hand on a branch, caressing it.

"See you soon, Sam," Amay said brightly. She winked at her freind before melting into the tree, and was gone.

Sam shook her head disparingly. Nonetheless, she knew that after dinner, she would be out, looking for her freind. Shaking her head again, this time to clear away the thoughts of Amay and her flightiness, Sam reached out to touch Emily's shoulder.

"Hey, Emily. We're here," Sam said softly, shaking the girl's shoulder gently to wake her up. "C'mon. Wake up, silly."

Emily's eyes slowly fluttered open as she yawned hugely. "We're here?"

"Yep. Now c'mon, get your stuff, Mitchel's waiting inside."

"Alright." Emily yawned again and unbuckled her seatbelt, taking her backpack with her as she slid out of the car. Sam shut the door behind her.

Sam tierdly climbed the steps up to the main doors, with Emily shadowing her. She'd been here, mentally, so many times before- and each time, it was emotionally draining. Sam paused a moment in the doorway, holding the large glass door open for the smaller girl, before sighing and following her shadow in.

Sam collapsed on her bed- the lower half of a bunkbed. Emily had insisted on the top bunk, and Sam had given in with only a token resistance.

Their room for the night was a basic double- bunkbed in the corner across from the door, desk next to the door, two dressers alongside the bunkbed, and a sort of couch or daybed under the large window.

Sam closed her eyes and tried to ignore the sound of Emily happily bouncing above her so she could sneak in a nap before dinner. She was so tired-

It wasn't the group home- the group home was okay. A little boring, a little worn, but okay. It wasn't like she was spending the rest of her life here, after all. But right now, she was just emotionally and physically worn out.

Moving always took a toll on her; stress was a killer for anyone. But most people didn't have to move in with complete stangers the next day- without even meeting them first. For most people, moving brought at least a small sense of a fresh start and adventure. For Sam, the most she could hope for was an hour or two of blessedly dream free sleep before the shadow horses- the Night Mares- caught up with her.

But, apparently, that wasn't going to happen. Sam cracked open one eye and glared at the bunk above her. The names and her worries kept chasing themselves around and around in her head.

_The Bennetts, from Burgess, Pensylvannia. What will school be like- How long will they let me stay- What will _they_ be like-?_

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.

"Emily?" She called up to the top bunk as she slid off her own, "I'm gonna go out for a walk, okay?"

"Okay!" came the cheerful awnser from above her head.

"Can you stay put here and wait for me, unless Mitchel or Mrs. Huston comes to talk ot you?"

"Yep."

"Good girl." Sam said, pulling her beat up sneakers back on. "I'll be back before dinner, okay?"

"Got it!"

Sam, reassured that her new freind was safe, slipped out the door to their room. Quietly, she walked down the hall, seeking the door to the garden and back feild that had been included on their brief tour.

It took her a while to find it again, but when she did, she hastened her steps and hurried outside. Quickly, she went through the garden, giving all the flowers and plantings barely a glance. Once she reached the wide feild that sloped downhill, away from the home and to the forest, she broke into a run.

Part of it was impatience to see her old freind again, and part of it was the abstract joy she found in running. But most of it was habit. The sun was setting, lengthening and enlarging the shadows- and that was what she ran from.

Most shadows were innocuous, that she knew both from experience and from what she could See. But one or two encounters with the ones that weren't- they'd scared her into never taking chances.

She reached the edges of the woods, slightly out of breath, to find Amay waiting for her. The Summer spirit was perched about ten feet up, in the crook of two tree branches, bare feet dangling in the air, and with a smile on her face.

Seeing Sam, Amay hopped down from the tree, landing lightly and gracefully on her feet.

"You're early," She remarked. "Something _is_ bothering you."

Sam said nothing, letting her weariness speak for itself. Amay frowned in concern and walked over to her, taking Sam's hands in her own. "Tell me about it." Amay invited, drawing Sam down to sit next to her on a fallen tree.

The summer spirit waited patiently as her freind sorted her thoughts into coherent speech, quietly warming Sam's cold hands with her own heat. Amay knew Sam well- her friend was the first human she'd met with the Gift in hundreds of years, thousands, probably, though she'd lost track, and consequently the only freind she'd had in all that time.

_You can't be freinds with those who don't belive in you, can't see you. Small wonder I care for her so much. _

She'd known Samantha since she was twelve- and the child had blundered into her. Into her, not through her, something the May Queen had long since taken for granted. She'd thought the Gift had died out, along with all the others.

Idly, as she waited for Sam to speak, she reflected on her own past. Having never crossed the Veil herself, she could still dimly remember her human life as a Irish Druid before the Roman invasion.

Not that she wanted to remember. She would much rather have forgone all of her memories that retain those of the invasion- the day she changed. She had been an apprentice talented in the Earth magics- and she had the Sight.

However, her tribe was slaughtered mercilessly by invading Romans, and she ran into the forest to hide, the only survivor. Greiving and in pain from wounds that would have proved fatal, she met a woman who offered her a chance to escape, and serve a purpose akin to her calling.

_So I took it. And never looked back._

A small cough as Sam cleared her throat called her back from ancient memories. Amay faced her, listening to what her freind wished to say.

Sam took a deep breath before beginning. "They're shipping me off to live with some freind or the other- someone I've never met. Four years of refusing to allow anyone but family, custody, and now this-?" Sam sniffed, wiping at the freely flowing tears in her eyes. "I know I should have expected it, but-"

"But nothing." Amay interupted before Sam could lauch into a spiral of self-incrimination. Her old irish accent slipped unconciously into her speech, as it did in times of stress. "'Tis your family is to blame. Not you. An' have we not been over this? I know you know's tha' you're not to blame- deep inside, a' least. Now, _mo chroí dheirfiúr, what's truly worryin' thee?"_

Sam got control of herself again. "I'm scared. I'm never safe from them- how will I be safe there? And what will they be like- I can't stand not seeing you for the rest of fall- or being alone again! Not when the whole winter's ahead!"

"Ah." Amay leaned her freind's head down on her shoulder, letting the teenager feel her warmth for support. "An' you fear, because of this, tha' the nightmares will return- bringin' the Shadow King with them, na?"

Sam nodded against Amay's shoulder. The ancient summer spirit knew why her freind was dealthy afraid of what she faced- even if she wouldn't admit it to herself. The shadows could be deadly, especially for one who could see them. To face the nightmares alone- Amay shuddered at the thought. Not for the first time, she cursed those so called _Guardians_' blindness. They concerned themselves with the greater good- the objective good, and often failed to see the unique children in need of help.

Even the winter spirit, they'd mostly ignored. Amay had tried to reach out to him, to tell him she was there, but summer and winter just couldn't coexist, especially where he frequented.

Frowning, she thought of something- a name- the child who had first seen the Winter Spirit in his whole existence. It had been all over the Legend's gossip for months- the child who refused not to believe. Yes- that was it! Jamie Bennett- of- of- Burgess. The winter spirit's home.

"Sam?"

"Yes, Amay?" The voice was somewhat muffled, but she heard it.

"Who are they sendin' you to? Do you know? A' all?"

Sam sat up, drying her receding tears with her sleeve. "Ah- Bennett. In Burgess. Couple hours that way." Sam pointed vaguely to the north.

Amay smiled. "Then you have nothing to fear. If these are the Bennetts I'm thinking off, then the eldest child- he is protected. He sees what you do." Soloution to her friend's worries found, the thick Irish slipped back out of her speech.

"He does?" Sam was doubtful. "Most children do- and then they forget."

Amay shook her head, eager to reassure Sam. The girl had a rough life- she didn't need her own unnessecary worries to make it any worse. "No. That's not what I mean. The Legends were talking for days about it- Jamie Bennett saved the Guardians. He faced down the Shadow King himself."

"Huh." Sam said, more than a bit ashamed of her own fear. If a child could do it, why couldn't she? Why- was she just weak?

Amay shook her shoulder. "Don't be ashamed. You've lived with him far longer. But Jamie Bennett is on both the Guardians' and the Nightmares' maps. The Guardians' protection and the Nightmare's avoidance of him will extend by default to you- because you'll share the same roof. In defending him, the Guardians must also protect you. You are still a child, by their rules."

Sam snorted disdainfully, and Amay knew that the worst was over. "A child. Me. Until when?"

"Eighteen. That's their rule- us Legends work less rigidly, though. You're no longer a child by _our_ rules, if it's any consolation- you've long since matured beyond that. And you passed your sixteenth birthday."

"Well. Good to know my sufferings are counted towards my status by _somebody_!" Both girls laughed, and Amay stood up.

"Please don't go," Sam begged. "I've missed you."

Amay's face darkened. "I have to, Sam. Summer is fading here- and I have to go where I'm needed. But I promise I'll visit you before fall ends- we'll have a nice long vacation together."

Sam nodded in reluctant agreement, once again reminded that her best freind wasn't just _hers_. She was tied to her duty as the May Queen- which, as she'd explained once to Sam- the same time she'd explained the Guardians- sustained her in absence of belief. Without doing her job, she would fade.

"Well, I won't keep you. And I've got a likely impatient freind up there." Sam chuckled, pointing to the group home, which was dimly lit by the rapidly fading light.

"Good." Amay said, tossing a small round object to Sam, who caught it deftly. An apple.

"I remembered how you loved the early apples," Amay said with a smile. "You can thank me by telling your little freind a story about me. Another believer always helps."

And then she was gone. Sam smiled, turning the apple over in the dying light. A strange gift- but then, Amay was strange. And that was why she loved her.

Tucking the apple in the pocket of her hoodie, Sam turned and raced back up the hill, her heart much lighter, though her fears remained, heavy as ever.


	5. Chapter 4: Meetings and Goodbyes

**Jamie and Sophie are appearing- and we get a bit of MiM and Sam's memories in here to.**

**Note: Sam doesn't know about MiM. What she knows, as a rule, is limited to what she Sees- and she knows about the Guardians, as an organization, because Amay explained their role to her. Amay just forgot to tell her about MiM picking the Guardians- and Jack joining the Guardians. She's over a thousand years old- she forgets stuff like that. And to her, Jack joining the Guardians is basically the day's news report. She wouldn't think to mention it to Sam. **

**(Just for the future! :)**

* * *

_She could see nothing despite the feindish light- feel nothing but the heat, coming up from the floor that by some miracle hadn't burst into flames. The smoke hung thick and poisonous, both blinding and choking her. _

_She coughed and gagged, deasperatly trying to get oxygen into her lungs. What air she could inhale was superheated, seemingly scorching her throat as she tried to breathe. _

_The flames were everywhere, turning the tiny house into a terrifiying maze- and lighting the smoke-shadows into creatures of terror. _

_"Mom!" She cried. "MOMMY!" Back and forth she ran, desperatly seeking escape from the corridor in which she was trapped. _

_The screaming and pleading emenated from across the house, the horrible laughter following like an echo from hell._

_She shrieked, feeling the shadows reaching for her- _

Sam caught herself in mid-scream, sitting bolt upright in bed. She was coated in sweat, heart racing and out of breath, the covers tossed on the floor. Breathing shakily, she sat there for a moment, wrapping her arms around herself and drawing her legs into a cross-legged position. Sliently, she rocked back and forth on the bed, trying to calm down and regain control of her breathing.

_It's over. It's over- _Sam repeated the phrase over and over, chanting it in her head until her heart calmed and her breathing returned to normal. After a minute, she discovered that Emily, sleeping the sleep of the exhausted, had slept through her screaming- and the Nightmare had left her alone.

_Well, thanks for small things, I guess. _Still shaking, Sam swallowed, her eyes anxiously sweeping the room for any sign of the Nightmare that had visited her. Once again, it had vanished without a trace.

Only after she was sure it was gone did she allow herself to relax her tense body, closing her eyes for a moment.

Reflexively, Sam's hand dropped to the scars that curved their way up her feet and calves- the lines of lighter skin that glowed in the scant light filtering through the window.

Her fingers traced their lines on their own, having long since commited their patterns to memory. The scars were barely raised, and hardly noticeably unless you looked for them- they were barely a few shades darker than her own skin. But they were there forever, always reminding her of what she just wanted to forget.

Impatiently, Sam took her hand away and shook her mussed hair out of her eyes. One thing was for certain- she would get no more sleep tonight.

Silently, Sam unfolded her legs and slipped out of bed, feet making no sound as they touched the floor. As she stood, she caught sight of the stars shining through her window, cheerfully twinkling at the girl below.

Sam directed a withering glare at them. "Fat lot of good you were." She muttered, and turned away. For a moment, she assessed her options for the rest of the night- and decided to take a walk. Carefully, so as not to attract attention or wake any sleepers, she opened the door to the room and crept out.

The hall was dark, but Sam didn't care. It was the Shadows and the Nightmares she feared, not the dark. She couldn't explain how it was different; it just was.

Like a ghost in her pale, loose nightclothes, Sam walked along the hallways, her feet wandering ceaselessly. A few tendrils of golden sand still lingered her and there, and she dipped her fingers in them as she passed, smiling momentarily at the small images they created.

She let her feet choose their course, not knowing nor caring where they took her. Eventually, she found herself in the small playroom- unsure of how she got there.

The room was clear- the toys put away. But, for the first time that night, the first time in a long time, in fact, she saw the moon.

It beamed, brilliant and full, through the enormous windows of the playroom, creating a puddle of light that stretched from the center of the room to a small windowseat under the globe of light.

Sam didn't heasitate. Transfixed by the wondrous full moon, she walkled closer, her skin and clothes silvered by the light's touch. As she reached the window, she took a seat beside the cool glass, feeling _safe_ at last.

Wondering, she reached out one hand, tracing the moon's curve on the window.

"The moon-" she whispered. "All children are safe in the light of the Moon." Dimly, the words seemed to strike a chord in her memory, and the moon's face seemed to wink in agreement.

Suddenly, she remembered where she had heard the phrase she had just uttered.

_"Don't be afraid of the dark, Samantha." He mother said lightly to a clinging and much younger Sam. "Because look- outside your window, there's the moon. And, you know, all children are safe in the light of the moon."_

_"How do you know that?" Little three-year old Sam said, still fearful and inclined to doubt. Her mother laughed. "The moon told me so, little one. Now go to sleep."_

Sam gasped at the long forgotten memory- and as she gazed up with new amazement at the silver face, she heard someone speaking- without speaking- speaking into her mind.

_Night-Child and Sighted One. That's _what_ you are, I think, young one- but _who_ are you? And who will you become? _

There was a considering pause, and Sam had the feeling she was being evaluated.

_You have much to face- but don't be afraid. I will be here to guide you, if you trust me and my own. _

_"_What do you mean?" Sam said, confused. "I don't understand."

_You'll find out. Eventually. For now, sleep. _The moon seemed to laugh. Sam bit back an angry retort- and felt her eyelids grow heavy.

"No fair!" She managed to get out, before she fell asleep on the windowseat. In the morning, she would wake up back in her bed, fully rested, with no memory or idea of how she got there.

* * *

After an early breakfast, Mitchel came to pick them up for the drive back to the shelter. Emily, Sam having told her about her new parents coming to get her today, was practically bouncing with excitement.

Sam, however, was less enthusiatic. Despite Amay's reassurances- and the Moon's comfort, there were doubts- and parts of moving that never varied. New school, new town. New people she'd never met. And, Burgess being a small town, everybody probably would know everybody else.

But- there was Amay's approval. And Sam was determined to make the best of it- simply because of that. Besides, it couldn't be any worse than any other home she'd already been in.

When Mitchel pulled up, Emily flew down the steps. Sam laughed involentarily, following behind her. Nothing like a child to make you feel happier.

She tranced out during most of the ride, wondering about where she was going. Even as she walked into Boredom Central and _again _found herself waiting, baggage at her feet, she continued to wonder.

The door to the conference room opened, startling her. She jumped, before realizing that it was Emily, wreathed in smiles.

The girl ran over to her, suprising Sam by hugging her tightly around the waist. She blinked in suprise- and returned the hug.

"So, I assume it went well?" Sam said teasingly. She glanced over at the couple who had adopted her little freind- and any worries about Emily getting a good family evaporated. The young woman smiled indulgently, pateintly waiting for the girl to come back to her, maternal affection clearly shining in her eyes.

"Yes!" Emily squealed, making Sam wince for a moment. "Come meet my new parents!" Sam allowed herself to be lead over to the couple, who smiled kindly.

"This is Patrick and this is Anna." Emily said seriously, pointing to the man and woman in turn. "But they said I can call them Mom and Dad if I want."

"That's good," Sam replied. "Hello." She added to the two adults, more shyly. "I'm Sam. Emily and I met yesterday."

"Sam's my freind. She told me lots of good stories. And she promised that you'd come!" Emily explained.

The woman smiled at her new daughter. "Than it's good to meet her." She glanced over at Sam and winked. "Would you like to give your freind your new phone number so she can come see you again?"

"Yes! I want Sam to be my sister. Can you adopt her too?" Anna blinked.

Sam laughed quickly, before the situation became akward, kneeling down before the little girl. "Emi, I've got my own family to go to now. But our towns are only a half hour away! I can call you whenever you want, and come see you as often as I can. See? I'll see you again! We'll be freinds as long as you want, 'kay?"

Emily frowned a bit, but mumbled "'Kay."

Anna mouthed a _Thank You_ at Sam, before handing her a slip of paper.

"That's our number. Call Emily as often as you want- Freinds should stay together."

Sam put it in her pocket. "Thanks. I will."

Anna smiled. "I know how it is for you. I was a foster kid too- I got lucky and got adopted. That's why we're adopting." Then she left, taking Emily with her and her husband. Sam waved through the window at their car until it dissappeared.

When she could no longer see the blue station wagon, she dropped both her arm and her smile. Silently, she fingered the slip of paper and told herself she _would not cry_.

"Sam?" That was Mitchel. "Mrs. Bennett's here."

Her new home. Hurriedly, Sam wiped her eyes and picked up her stuff, to follow Mitchel back through the door and into the same confrence room as last time.

* * *

Sam was putting down her stuff when her new guardian entered. She had just placed the box on the table, careful of the aging cardboard, when she looked up into the gaze of the woman herself. Startled, she emitted a silent squeak of suprise before regaining her composure.

Mrs. Bennett proved to be a youthful looking woman with brown hair, and caring eyes. Sam looked at her curiously- and was suprised for the second time that day when the woman stood up from her chair to greet her.

"Hello, Samantha," she said in a clear, soft voice. "I'm Grace Bennett. You probably don't remember me- the first time I met you was at the funeral. Your mother and I were good freinds in high school. It's very nice to see you again- even if it does have to be under such rotten circumstances."

Sam was momentarily stunned- she dropped the duffel bag she was still holding onto the floor with a suprised _thud_. Not even her relatives introduced themselves to her- they just showed up to collect her and her baggage and sign the requisite paperwork. "Ah- Thank you, Mrs. Bennett. It's nice to meet you again, too."

Mitchel coughed across the room. Sam flushed.

"And thank you for taking me in," She added, directing an angry glare at him.

Mrs. Bennett shrugged. "It's the least I could do- I volenteered to take you in after the accident, after all. But your family thought it best-" She gestured emphetically.

_Well, that's news to me,_ Sam thought. _I'd've taken this lady over my family any day. _

"Well, now that you two have met, let's get the paperwork done," Mitchel said hurriedly, breaking in before Sam could react. "I'm sure you're eager to be on your way, Mrs. Bennett."

"Very, actually. My son Jamie's in the car, waiting."

Sam felt a jolt go through her. _Jamie-?_

Abruptly, she stooped to pick her duffel bag back up. "Here- I can go put my stuff in your car, if you want. It'll help speed things up." Sam offered.

Mitchel raised a suprised eyebrow. Sam never offered to help- she usually didn't speak at all, instead prefering to glare stonily at whatever relative was taking her.

Mrs. Bennett smiled. "Go ahead. Jamie's in the car- he should let you in. It's the blue sedan- I'll be out there as soon as we finish."

Sam nodded, giving the woman a small, tentative smile as she straightened. "Thank you."

Mitchel coughed, to cover his suprise. "Well, then- if you'll follow me, we'll go get the paperwork done."

Sam covered a snicker. _Well, Mitchel, you finally did it. A home I actually might like. _

She waited until they had dissappeared down the hall before walking out to the Bennett's car. Spying it, tucked into a corner of a parking lot, she walked over and knocked gently on the window, trying not to drop either her box or bag.

The boy inside looked up from whatever he had been entranced in, his light brown eyes curious.

"Hey." Sam said, loud enough to be heard through the window glass. "Can you open the door, please?"

The boy she assumed to be Jamie nodded and laid his book aside, scooting over to the other side of the backseat to open the door for her.

Sam walked around the back of the car to the open door. Carefully, she set the heavy box down on the seat, the duffel bag on the floor, relieved to be rid of the weight.

She wiped her hands off on her jeans and smiled at Jamie. "Thanks. I'm Sam. You're Jamie?" He was rather adorable, she considered, with messy brown hair and those soft brown eyes. Sam suddenly understood why the Guardians might have been so interested in this particular child.

"Yep." he awnsered, already returning to his book, plainly uninterested in her. Sam looked at the title.

"Bigfoot, huh?" She questioned, teasingly.

Jamie looked up at her, suprised. "Yeah- they found DNA in Michigan a couple years ago, and this reasearch team made a book about it."

"Well, I'm from Michigan," Sam said, shutting the door and climbing into the passenger's seat up front.

Jamie's eyes lit up. "Really? That's awesome! Did you ever see one? Ever? And-"

Sam laughed- and immediatly found herself liking Jamie Bennett. "Nope. But I have seen some cool things, before. And not all in Michigan."

"Like what?" Jamie asked curiously, bookmarking his page and setting the book aside. "Is it really true you've been all over the country?"

Sam smiled. "Not quite the whole country- but quite a bit. I've been to California, Arizona, Michigan, of course, I lived in Massachusets for a while. And I've been in Pennsylvania for a while now."

"Did you see the Grand Canyon?" Jamie asked. "Or-"

Just then, Mrs. Bennett appeared in the parking lot, carrying a folder full of paperwork for Sam's custody, and looking very much like she wanted to get under way.

Sam flicked her eyes to her, and then back to Jamie. "Hey, squirt, how 'bout I tell you when we get to your house? 'Cause I have some stories I'm sure you'd love, but I don't want to sound crazy in front of your mom."

"Stories like what?" Jamie asked, sounding very much intrigued- and his eyes growing wide with some realization. "Do you mean, like, stories about the-"

Just then, Mrs. Bennett arrived at the car, unlocking the door.

"Maybe," Sam said, winking at Jamie, before turning back around- realizing, to her own suprise, that it gave her great pleasure to amaze kids, to delight them. "You'll find out."


	6. Chapter 5: Coming Home, Coming Winter

**I skipped around a bit here; this is a mostly boring filler. Good news though, Jack next chapter- and the boring stuff is over. **

**Note, and this may change, this story is supposed to be set about two years after the movie. So Jamie and Jack have an arrangement about winter- the first snow day of the year, Jack always visits. The rest of the days of winter are debateable. He is busy as a Guardian, after all. **

* * *

The Bennett's house was a cheerful shade of red, with white trim; a wide porch, attached garage, brick chimney, and two window dormers.

Sam looked up at it through the car window, her face betraying none of her thoughts. Burgess was smaller than she had anticipated, the only real points of interest she had seen on their drive in were a small park in the town square and a half-glimpsed glimmer of water through the tree line.

There were no outward signs of the magic Amay had mentioned- just the typical variety of mainstream smalltown America. Except- that small pond. She'd seen it for half a moment, but there was _something_ there. Something special, that waited... waited for what?

"Coming, Samantha?" Mrs. Bennett's soft voice interupted Sam's swirling thoughts. She flushed, dismissing her musings.

"Yes- I'll bring my things in in a minute."

"Alright. I'll have lunch in the kitchen if you want anything."

Sam suppressed the urge to arch an eyebrow in suprise. That was unexpected.

"Thanks." She said, getting out of the car and walking around to the back. Jamie, book in hand, looked at her with hopeful eyes.

"I'll tell you tonight," Sam said quietly. "When your parents aren't around. They wouldn't believe me anyway."

Jamie grinned. "You're cool. I thought you'd be depressing and stuff, but you're awesome." He told her, and ran into the house.

_Well, thanks, _Sam thought wryly, opening the door to get her stuff. The honesty of children- it knows no bounds. But, again, her thoughts turned to the small pond. It held some special meaning- she could feel it, see the faint signs of magic lingering there.

Angrily, Sam shook her head. Her sight and the intuition that followed it had cursed her life- and she would not ruin this placement, the one chance for a normal, happy life she had be given in a long time, by looking for trouble. Literally.

The Nightmares, she couldn't help- they gathered around her always; and Amay she wouldn't give up. But she could, and would, choose to ignore any magic that might be in Burgess. Hopefully, this time, the shadows would leave her.

And if they didn't- if they came seeking her again- she would run. As she always did.

Decision made, and metaphysical worries asseauged, Sam slung her bag over her shoulder, grabbing the rest, and shut the car door. Well, welcome home.

* * *

Within the first fifteen minutes, Jamie had enthusiastically introduced her to everyone avaliable in the house- his little blonde sister Sophie- who was adorable- an aging greyhound called Abby- who was wary of Sam- and a half dozen of his freinds whose names Sam couldn't remember just yet, before Mrs. Bennett had called halt and directed Sam to the guest- now her- room.

Gratefully, Sam had retreated upstairs and closed the door, dumping her stuff on the floor and flopping face down onto the bed. It was a lot to process- and it seemed to be to good to be true.

First of all, the Bennetts were more welcoming than her own family. Their children believed- both of them. And she if she was an extra, she wasn't an outcast, either.

They'd put her in the guest room, a cozy if bland place, with a soft full bed, bookshelf, desk, dresser, and one of the window dormers, which Sam had opened fully to catch any hint of a breeze. They'd invited her to eat with them- and not just dinner. They'd been kind, and un-pushy.

It was all she could ask for- and it felt like a home. And that scared her. Her only home had been erased- any place that felt like home, she had to leave.

Groaning, Sam rolled off the bed to put her stuff away. The box was full of books; fantasy novels, history books, the classics, and collections of myths; all cheap paperbacks and library discards falling apart through much use.

Sam could care less about other belongings; her books were her treasures. Lovingly, she carefully placed each one on the shelf at the end of the room, making sure that none of them were in any danger of further damage and in proper order before going back to put away her tragically small wardrobe.

Even after that, she still felt disoriented and confused. A home was an alien concept. To have one thrust in her face was both freeing and frightening.

Sam sat crosslegged on the floor before the window, staring out at the sky and trying very hard not to think about it. She had one; that was enough, without bringing any thing else into it.

With that in mind, Sam got up and went down to join the Bennetts.

* * *

The last week of summer passed quickly- but Amay was as good as her promise, and Sam spent it in the company of her freind, knowing that soon, Amay would be forced away for the next six months, at the least.

But despite her apparent reticience, Sam had fallen into the Bennett's home like she belonged. Burgess felt like her home, the Bennetts like her _real_ family.

She took care of both Jamie and Sophie during the frequent nights when both parents had to work late, she babysat their freinds. By the time a few weeks had passed, she had quite a little group of admirers, due to the stories she told them. And if she lacked freinds among her own age group, well, she really preferred the younger children.

But none of them even guessed that the stories that enchanted them were true- or that Sam knew the characters her core group of listeners believed in were real. And Sam refused to tell them that she _knew_.

Old habits die hard- and children talk. Besides, what she could see was dangerous, and ignorance was a protection. Sam had learned that the shadows could usually harm none but her- because she saw them, and believed. If the children, particularly the two Sam had come to regard as her younger sibs, could see them too, then they would be in danger.

Besides, there was no reason to tell them. And if the Nightmares still came every night, then at least she slept through them.

* * *

It was now November, and far, far too early to be this cold, in Sam's opinion. Already, her fellow students were talking about snow. Obviously, three years in the southwest had not done her any favors in preparing for the winters of Burgess, Pennsylvania.

Hurrying down the sidewalk to the house from her bus stop, she muttered curses under her breath as the chill wind blew open her coat for the third time. It was a bleak day, with a slate gray sky, icy wind, and dreary color scheme of dead browns and shades of gray.

Right now, all Sam wanted was to get home, and get a mug of something hot and a book. Shoes slapping on the pavement, Sam broke into a jog before running up the back path to the backyard.

Carefully, she eased through the two loose boards that Jamie had showed her proudly before climbing the porch steps and hurrying indoors. Relived, Sam sighed at the warmth blasting from the heater.

She slid off her backpack- new, a gift from Mrs. Bennett- and unbuttoned her coat, also new, throwing it over the back of a chair in the kitchen.

"Jamie?" she called. The younger boy ususally got home before her, and so it was Sam's job to watch him, make dinner, and pick up Sophie most nights. She didn't mind- Jamie and Soph were good kids. Most of the time.

"In here," Was the reply. Sam followed the voice into the den, where Jamie was absorbed in the computer screen. She peered at it.

"Checking the weather report again?" She asked. "You know the forecasters are never accurate."

Jamie shrugged and grinned. "I just can't wait for snow! The first snowfall of the year's always a snow day, and I can't wait!"

Sam snorted humorously. "Neither can I. It'll be so nice to sleep in for a change." She walked over to the window. "It's certainly cold enough out there." Then she turned back to Jamie. "What do you want for dinner? I'm cooking again."

"Nooo!" Jamie said, mock-disparingly. "Anything but eating your food again!"

Sam laughed. "You weren't complaining the last time I cooked. Tomato soup alright?"

Jamie shrugged in reply. "Alright, tomato soup it is. Go do your homework so I can check it."

"Yes, _Mom_," Jamie said.

Sam laughed again before going back out into the hall. She walked to the kitchen, grabbed her backpack, and dragged it up to what was now undisputably her room.

The once bland room had been livened up by the addition of several posters and a few quilts; a few little knick-nacks that had been given to her by Jamie's freinds adorned a shelf. It was a minimal presence, but the room was warm and welcoming.

Sam set the backpack down, next to her desk, and went back downstairs to start dinner. Sophie would be dropped off from daycare soon, and Sam wanted to make sure dinner was ready by then.

Within a couple hours, Sophie had arrived, dinner had been served, eaten, and night had descended. Sam had put little Sophie to bed after dinner, and was now checking Jamie's spelling homework as the boy stared anxiously out the window, looking for what, Sam didn't know.

Finishing the last word, Sam called him over from the window. "Good job. You got those two wrong, but other than that, you're perfect."

"Thanks." Jamie set to work correcting his mistakes on the paper Sam handed back to him, but his eyes kept darting back to the window. Sam watched him curiously.

"What are you looking for?" She asked. Jamie's gaze flicked to her, guiltily. "Nothing," He replied.

Sam arched an eyebrow in disbelief, but said nothing. When he finished, Sam sent him to bed and turned to her own homework, returning to her own room.

It was creeping toward ten as she fought through several Algebra problems, sleep creeping up on her. Frustrated and tired, Sam laid her head down on her desk and closed her eyes for a moment.

_I'll finish this in the morning,_ she decided as she nearly fell asleep again. _Lord knows I'm not getting anything done now. _

Slowly, fighting to keep her eyes open, Sam closed the book and put it away, flicking off the lamp.

Instantly the room was shrouded in gloom. With a sigh of relief, Sam slid into bed, relaxing instantly as her eyes fluttered shut. The last thing she saw were a few snowflakes drift past her window- and, for some reason, that made her smile as she drifted off to sleep.

Oddly, that night, the Nightmares neglected to come.


	7. Chapter 6: There Are Limits

**Well, in most Jack Frost fics I've read, the love interest always seems to be involved in some sort of visual art-usually photography. So I'm going with the trend- Sam is drawer. The way I see it, that and reading are about the only hobbies she could really _do _in foster care. Have fun and reveiw-Jack has finally made an appearance. **

**Don't worry- he'll probably feature prominantly in most chapters from now on. **

**Reviews are love!**

* * *

The alarm clock blared in Sam's ear at six, waking up out of the first sound sleep she'd had in _ages. _"Mmph." Sam muttered, sticking a hand out of the warm blankets and fumbling around until she managed to turn off the alarm. Withdrawing her arm from the chill room and back under the warmth of layers of comforter and blankets, Sam raised her head blearily to gaze out at the window.

It was still dark outside; to dark to see much beyond the window glass- but the glass itself was decorated with swirls of frost. Sam groaned and flopped her head back down, burying her face in the pillows.

_Damn cold. Just SNOW already, will ya?_ She thought at the weather, trying to drift back into sleep. _Five more minutes- or maybe an hour..._

But a nagging reminder from her stomach that it wanted breakfast and the nag of her conciecnse about the unfinished Alegbra problems gnawed at her.

_Ugh._ Sam dragged herself out of bed, glad that there was a rug on the otherwise very cold wooden floor, and went downstairs, feeling more like a zombie than any living creature should.

Carefully, she negotiated the darkened hallway into the kitchen. Once there, Sam rummaged in the kitchen cupboard for a while, mostly by feel, eventually coming up with a mug, a spoon, a muffin, and a couple of hot chocolate packets.

Filling the mug with hot water from the sink, Sam ripped open both packets of hot chocolate and dumped the contents into the mug, stirring metatativly with one hand and holding the mug with the other. She turned back to the window over the kitchen sink- and nearly dropped the mug in suprise and delight.

The backyard, dark though it was, was clearly covered in a thick layer of white. Sam nearly whooped with joy- but, exercising considerable self control, managed to contain her excitement.

With exaggerated care, Sam set the mug of cocoa down on the counter by the muffin she'd intended to eat- before taking off down the hall to the den, where the TV lived. Bare feet slipping on the hall run, Sam skidded to a halt in front of the TV, muting it before frantically channeling to a news report.

Film of piled up snow and frozen plows in a dark, night like morning played- while words like 'heavy snowfall', 'unusually early storm', and 'widespread school closures' flashed repetitivly behind the news host.

A small banner with the title 'School Start Times' played on an endless loop across the bottom of the screen- listing school names, and what time they would start, whether they were pending a decision- or whether they were cancelled altogether.

Sam crossed her fingers, looking anxiously for Burgess High School. _Please be a snow day, please be a snow day..._ She prayed ferverntly. God, she hadn't had a snow day in _years_- they weren't exactly common in the southwest. More like unheard of.

She spotted Burgess High- and nearly shouted for joy. While most of the other schools had yet to admit defeat, Burgess had quickly bowed to the inevitable- and cancelled school altogether.

"Yes!" Sam shouted- and quickly covered her mouth, not wanting to wake the rest of the house up. But the need to be quiet did not curb her happiness in the least. With a ridiculous smile on her face, Sam danced back to the kitchen, putting the muffin back in the fridge before retreating back upstairs to _savor_ her drink.

Closing the door softly behind her, she sat at the window, sipping her hot chocolate and marveling at the sight of peace on the street below her. Everything had been covered by a thick white blanket- and everything was quiet and hushed. Dreary trees that had long since lost their fall splendor were softened and made beautiful again- the blunt corners of houses were dulled by the white into welcoming shapes.

Sam smiled around her mug as she drank the last of the contents. Snow- now that she saw it again, she realized how much she missed it. Winter might be the season she hated most- but snow was one of her favorite things. Ever.

Setting the mug aside, she drew a quick snowflake on the window pane fogged up by her body heat, then another, a different one- and another, again, different. Her own little tribute to the snow she'd wished for complete, Sam rose gracefully and climbed back into bed- the small smile still on her face as she slipped back into sleep.

* * *

Sam woke up to an insistent voice calling in her ear.

"Sam- It's a snow day! You gotta get up! We're gonna go sledding and build a snow fort and-"

Sam cracked open one eye to see Jamie bouncing up and down beside the bed, dressed in a curious mix of pajamas and snow clothes.

Then she looked over at the clock and groaned. "Jamie, It's seven bloody AM."

"But Sam-" Jamie whined. "Mom made waffles!" Jamie adopted the begging, puppy eyed look he'd found Sam couldn't resist.

Sam rolled over on her back and sighed, giving in. "Give me five more minutes. I'll be down in a sec."

Instantly, Jamie's expression brighted into a mega-watt grin. "Yay!" He yelled as he ran out of her room and back downstairs. Sam pulled a pillow from behind her head and flung it over her face.

_Kids._

She laid there for another couple of minutes, before tossing it aside and heaving herself out of bed and onto her feet.

Rubbing at one eye, she yawned and dug through her dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans and her warmest hoodie, the one from Burgess High that Jamie had insisted she get at the Homecoming game, which he'd insisted she go to.

In truth, she hadn't minded that much- what she had minded was the whispers and _looks_ from her fellow student body and their families. But she was awfully fond of that hoodie- it was a dark navy zip up, with 'Burgess High School' emblazoned in white across the front, and the inside was lined with fleece.

She slipped the clothes on over her pajamas, yanked on a pair of warm socks over her chilled feet, and pulled her hair back into a pony before going over to the window to retrive her used mug. As she picked it up, the handle dangling from her fingers, she glanced out the window.

The street was now lit, pale sunlight lighting the snow and making it sparkle- and shouts and shrieks of joy floated up to the window from children engaged in snow warfare or sledding down the street.

They were all over, the younger ones who were probably still in elementary school, their colorful winter jackets making bright spots against the white snow. Sam watched them for a few minutes, mug dangling forgotten from her fingertips- and frowned in confusion as she spotted an older boy in a blue hoodie, holding a stick shaped like a shepard's crook in one hand, playing with them.

She dismissed it, seeing him playing with the kids. If he wanted to play with them rather than hang with other high schoolers, that was his business. After all, she did the pretty much the same thing. Which reminded her-

Grabbing the mug more firmly, she turned away from the window and darted back downstairs.

* * *

Downstaris, Jamie and Sophie were both devoring piles of homemade waffles at the kitchen table- and another place was set for Sam, with her own pile of still steaming goodness. Mrs. Bennett was dressed for work in heels, suit, and wool coat- Sam opened her mouth to ask why, but before she could, the woman answered for her.

"I have to go to work for awhile- they're saying on the news that this could be a big storm, with more snow on the way, and I want to try and get some things done before the snow traps us all in here."

Sam closed her mouth and nodded, walking over and putting her mug in the sink.

"Do you want me to watch Jamie and Sophie?"

Mrs. Bennett smiled greatfully. "Thank you, but just Jamie."

"Mom!" Jamie protested through a mouthful of waffles.

"Just Jamie;" Mrs. Bennett continued, "Because I'm going to drop Sophie off at daycare on my way there. If the weather gets worse, it's not that far for you to go and get her if I'm not home."

Sam nodded. "Alright."

"I'll be back around four. And eat your breakfast, honey." Mrs. Bennett called as she walked out of the room to the garage, holding Sophie's hand.

Sam blinked at the use of the endearment, but obeyed, sitting down and digging into the plate of food. It _was_ good- flakey and delicately sweet, without being heavy or cloying.

"So," she said to Jamie, getting up and pouring herself a glass of milk. "What were your plans for the day?"

Jamie squirmed. "I was just- just gonna go play with some freinds."

"Alright," Sam agreed. "Now, I know you know the usual rules; don't talk to strangers and all that. So, go play with your freinds. Just come back here for lunch before your mom comes home, okay?"

Jamie nodded enthusiatically, glad to be treated responsibly. "Okay!"

"I'll be outside the house for a few hours, so can you tell me where I can find you if I come back and you're not here?"

Jamie considered for a moment. "Probably at Caleb and Claude's house."

Sam nodded. She'd babysit the twins a couple of times- she knew where their house was. "Alright. If you're not here when I come back, I'll come and see how you're doing. Is that alright?"

Jamie nodded, finishing the last of his breakfast and bringing the sticky plate to the sink. Sam drank her milk and finished off her own breakfast, placing her plate on top of Jamie's.

By the time she had done so, Jamie had already pulled on his winter gear and was darting out the front door.

"Have fun!" She called after him, before closing the door to the chill and going back inside to find her own boots and hat.

* * *

It took a bit of walking, but Sam managed to find the small pond she'd glimpsed on her first drive here. For whatever reason, she'd never found time to visit it before. It was odd, but well, her life was weird- even though said weirdness had decreased for the time being.

It was rather pretty, but otherwise unremarkable- she wondered what drew her to it so much. The water was frozen over, but only by a thin crust of brittle ice. Silently, the snow crunching under her feet, she went over the the water's edge. Already, the ice had fratured, water seeping out from under it like blood from a wound.

_Well, I'm dark,_ Sam thought with ironic amusement. Spotting a bench nearby, Sam carefully brushed snow off of it and sat down, unshouldering the small drawstring bag she'd brought with her.

She laid it beside her and opened it, removing a pad of cheap paper and a plain #2 pencil. Turning to a fresh page, she set the newly sharpened lead to paper and began to draw. The soft graphite streaked over the paper, lines tracing the curves of the cliffs over the pond and the trees that grew on them.

It was always this way- she was a tolerable artist, and four years in foster care with nothing else to entertain her on a non-existent income had honed her skill. Besides, it gave her a way to remember both the places she had loved and the creatures she had _seen_. The ones she wanted to remember, anyway.

"Well, you're not the first artist to draw here," The amused voice broke her concentration, startling her and giving a pine tree an abnormally long branch. "But you're one of the youngest. Shouldn't you be hanging out with your friends in a coffee shop somewhere?"

Irritated, Sam looked up to see the boy from before- the one she'd seen from her window, with the blue hoodie- standing a bit across from her. He still held the curved stick from before, and for whatever reason, he wasn't wearing shoes. His hair was pure white, and he had smirk of indifferent amusement.

Sam narrowed her eyes, wondering if he was one of the Others, or the Legends. A creature like Amay. Other than the stick, the frost on his hoodie, and the lack of shoes, he didn't look like one of them. He looked ... well; normal. All of the Otherkind Sam had seen or met, including Amay, had some air of magic about them. A kind of shine that set them apart.

She considered for a moment, before deciding to ignore him. If he was an Other, if he thought she couldn't see him, he'd leave her alone and go away. If he was a guy from town- well, she hoped he'd get bored when she didn't awknowledge him and leave her alone.

That decided, she turned back to her drawing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him float over and behind her to look over her shoulder.

_Alright, definatly an Other. _

Feeling puckish, and decidedly annoyed at the probably-sprite, Sam adjusted her position just enough to block most of his veiw from any angle he would be able to acheive.

"Aww." She heard him groan, and smiled. "That's not nice."

Suddenly, the wind blew her sketchpad out of her hands and back behind her. Thuroughly startled, Sam wheeled around to see the boy pick it up.

"Well, what's in here?" he muttered, that irritatingly confident smirk still on his face, beginning to leaf through the smudged, full pages.

Alright, that did it. Sam knew to keep her temper when dealing with the Legends and Others, but there were limits. The annoying winter sprite was going down.

Angrily, she pushed herself off the bench and marched toward the sprite, snatching the book out of his hand.

"It's considered polite to ask before you touch," She said frostily, flipping the cover closed. "I don't care if you're immortal or not; I don't apprieciate people stealing my stuff."

The sprite, far from being angry or condescending, like so many of his kind, looked like he'd been hit by a frying pan.

"Wait. You can see me?!"


	8. Chapter 7: An Awkward Encounter

Sam rolled her eyes. "No, I'm auditioning for the insane asylum. I've been working on this hallucination for months. You think I'll get in?"

The sprite relaxed his shock-stiffened posture, leaning casually against the staff he carried. "You're very sarcastic, for someone who's just seen something most people don't believe in."

Sam shrugged. "I see your kind all the time. It's nothing new." She slung the bag in her hand over one shoulder. "Now, if you'll excuse me." Sam brushed past the sprite and stalked off into the snow, ducking around a corner in the path.

He straighted, abandoning his casual pose to hurry after her. "Hey!" he shouted at her vanishing figure. " Please don't leave! I hardly ever get anyone to see me! You didn't even tell me-"

Suddenly, a feminine scream of pure fear echoed from beyond the trees.

"Okay. That's definetely not good," Jack muttered to himself, before taking off to find the girl.

It didn't take long to find her- she was barely along the path. That was the good news. The bad news, though- that was the monstrous shadow-thing blocking the way forward. It was like a wraith- an eight-foot tall creature draped in living shadow.

Jack let the wind drop him back onto solid ground. "O-kay."

The girl- he still didn't know her name- had gone deathly pale. "Oh, _shit. _I haven't seen them since- I thought they'd gone! I'd hoped- Oh, why the hell can't they just leave me _alone_? The Nightmares are bad enough!"

Jack looked at her, astonished. "You've met these things before?!"

She looked at him sharply. "You again? I thought you'd've swanned off by now; to go make more trouble for the rest of the world."

Jack smiled winningly at her. "Well, not me. I didn't get your name. You see these things alot?"

"All the time. They like to follow me around." The girl said, her terrified gaze turning back to the wraith-creature.

"Why?" Jack asked, always curious. That was going to kill him one of these days. Well, as killed as an immortal could be.

"How should I know?" The girl hissed at him. "I can only See- it's not like I'm psychic!"

Just then, the shadow thing lunged forward, covering the dozen or so yards between it and the two teenagers in a sort of gliding motion.

"Okay, whatever-your-name-is, what do you usually do when you meet one of these?"

She stared at him. "I run, idiot."

The thing was nearly upon them- perhaps four or five feet away. Jack sighed internally. Saving a girl with an apparent grudge against immortals was not on his top list of things to do. But he was a Guardian- and she was still technically a child. He assumed.

"Alright, time to go. Hold on." He told her, mentally calling his wind.

"Why-" That was all she got out before he scooped her up in his arms and launched himself into the air- and her words were cut off with a strangled shriek of surprise.

"Put me down you stupid, idiotic winter sprite!" The girl yelled, her fingers clutching at his sweatshirt for lack of anything else to hold.

"Hey!" he said indignantly. "I'm kind of doing you a favor, here!"

"Not really, you're not." She said, screwing her eyes shut. Jack glanced back down at the ground. The shadow hadn't followed them- it seemed content to wait on the ground. Well, it would be waiting an awfully long time.

As if the thought had spurred it, he heard a voice in his head. Unlike the only other voice he'd ever heard, this one made him want to cringe away, to find some corner to hide in. He shuddered, only the kindness of his wind keeping him in the air as he reeled in shock from the voice.

_We will come for the half-child, the Second-Sighted One. She is ours- and his. Our lord and vessel commands her return. He begot her- she thus has no means of escape from this contract. Fight it as long as you choose to, Guardian. Or save your strength and prepare for the war to come. _

The thing laughed, horribly, before vanishing. The girl winced in his arms. "I heard that." She said, "And I damn well wish I hadn't. Now, you annoyingly stubborn sprite, could you set me down before I throw up on your nice soft hoodie?"

Jack suppressed both a flare of annoyance at being called a sprite- he _was not_ a sprite- and a flash of incredulity- she finally said something nice, and it was about his _hoodie_?!- and hastily landed, back at the same park bench they had met at just about fifteen minutes before.

Gently but quickly, he set her down on the bench. She moaned as she sat up, putting her head on her lap.

Jack felt a twinge of concern. "You alright? 'Cause if I did something-"

The girl moaned again. "The sudden takeoff didn't help. Now, could you just shut up and give me a minute?"

"Oh. Sorry."

"'s alright." she muttered, and after several heaving, deep breaths, sat back up. "'M alright now. Now, what the HELL were you thinking?" she yelled at him. "Why couldn't you just be like the rest of your kind and just be a good little flighty sprite? No, you had to mess with it- and now it's angry."

The girl paused to draw breath, hints of pink appearing in her cheeks. As she did so, Jack decided he'd had enough.

"Oh, that's a great way to talk to someone who just saved your life? Don't I get a thank you?" He yelled back. "And I'm not a sprite." He muttered.

That stopped the girl dead in her tracks. "Oh." She considered that. "Then what are you?"

Really? Did he have to go around telling everyone? "I'm a Winter Spirit. THE Winter Spirit."

"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow, and for a moment, he thought about just how attractive the puckish expression looked on her. Then he shook off his momentary lapse. "I've heard of a lot of those. Which one, presicisly, are you?"

"Jack Frost, Guardian of Fun, creator of snowdays, blizzards, ice, and all things winter."

She blinked in surprise. "Well, the May Queen's real. I shouldn't be so shocked that you are to." She said to herself. Jack shrugged. "It's not just me. Sant-"

The girl snorted. "I know it's not just you, ya moron! Weren't you listening before? I can see things. I can see all the things people tell stories about; all the legends and myths that other people don't believe in." She shivered. "That's what the Shadow meant. I'm Second Sighted. I see them whether I want to or not."

Now it was Jack's turn to cough in suprise. "I've never heard of something like that before."

"Doesn't mean it can't exist," The girl said logically, "Especially when I'm standing right in front of you."

Jack made a mental note to mention this to North immediatly after he got done here. A shadow wraith he'd never heard of before and a girl who could see him without _believing_. Definatly waranting a trip to the pole.

"I agree with you. What was your name?"

The girl eyed him suspiciously for a moment before relenting. "Samantha. Samantha Broulet. Most people just call me Sam, though."

"Alright; nice to meet you, Sam."

Sam actually smiled- the first smile he'd seen her make. He couldn't help but notice, though, even as he tried to ignore it, how really rather pretty she was. A few strands of black hair had escaped her ponytail, softly framing her pale, heart-shaped face. Sternly, he told himself to stop it.

"I'd say nice to meet you to, but then again, you nearly made me throw up. But, nice to meet you all the same, Jack Frost."

He nodded, smiling back at her casually. Then he remembered. "Jamie! Umm- Sam, I kinda promised a freind of mine-"

She shrugged. "Go ahead- me the mortal's hardly gonna be able to stop you. You're a spirit; I'm sure you've got things you gotta do. You lot always seem to have to be doing something. 'Sides, I've got lunch to make. See ya around, Frost?"

Jack suprised himself by nodding. "Sure. See ya around." And then, before he could promise anything further to this mysterious girl he'd only reluctantly met, he let the wind carry him off to go find Jamie. This snow day was for him, after all.


	9. Chaoter 8: Tales Not Told

Sam was unnessecarily quick in returning to the Bennett's house- in fact, she ran the whole way there. She tripped a few times, but always managed not to faceplant.

By the time she got back, and shut the door behind her, making sure it was firmly closed, she was out of breath and panting. For a moment, she just stood there, snow melting off of her and forming a puddle on the tile as she caught her breath.

As soon as she was able, Sam slipped off the heavy jacket. She shuddered convulsivly. The Shadows had come for her again. How long before they succeeded in their mission, what ever- and for whoever- it was? How long did she have?

Slowly, though, as she made her way into the kitchen and began putting together lunch, another line of thought wormed its way into the front of her mind. And that thought centered primarily on Jack Frost.

Angrily, Sam told herself to stop it as she slammed the silverware drawer shut a little harder than was really nessecary. The winter spirits had always attracted her- not that she had seen very many, but something about them drew her in- perhaps their edginess, beyond even that of the other Fey.

But Frost hadn't been one of them, exactly; he looked like a sprite or one of the Fey, but there was something- maybe just a hint of pink where the Fey were stark white- that set him apart.

Determinly, Sam shook her head to rid it of that train of thought. _I will not obsess over Jack Frost. I will not obsess over the memory of an arrogant winter spirit that I'll probably never see again. I managed to keep my sanity around the Fey, I can do that here. _

She heard the front door open and shut, with the sound of smaller feet on the hardwood floor.

"Hello, Jamie," She called, turning back to her pot of soup- about the only thing she felt she could make right now. Dumping a can of Campbell's soup mix in a pot, adding water, and stirring over heat was about all she could manage after what happened in the woods.

"Hi, Sam!" she heard him awnser out in the foyer. She smiled and went out to go greet him and help mop up the drips from melting snow.

"I made soup; are you-" And then her mouth dropped open in astonishment. Right beside Jamie, looking at her with an equally surprised expression, was Jack Frost.

Sam recovered her ability to speak first. "What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, astonishment evident in her voice.

Jack blinked. "What are _you_ doing here?" he shot back.

"I live here!" Sam replied, irritated. "It's not like you can say the same."

Just then, Jamie broke in, eyes wide and his voice disbelieving. "You guys _know_ each other?!"

"If you can call me saving your sister's life this morning _knowing_ each other-"

"Hey, _snowman_, you did not save my life, you nearly killed me!"

"Guys!" Jamie yelled, getting both sparring teenager's attention. He looked at both of them, thuroughly confused. "You can see him?" He asked Sam.

Sam shrugged. "Yes. It's a long story. How did you meet snowman over there?"

"Hey!" Jack protested.

Jamie smiled. "That's a long story too."

Sam sighed and leaned against the wall. "Alright. Both of you in the kitchen. Now."

Jamie looked at her apprehensivly. "I'm not in trouble, right?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Of course not." Then she caught sight of Jack cautiously trying to sneak back out the front door. "I meant you too, Frostbite."

"But..."

"Both of you; in there before I make you."

Jamie might have covered a laugh at the winter spirit's completely stunned expression.

* * *

Sam set two bowls of steaming chicken soup down on the table, one in front of Jamie, the other at her own place, before walking back to turn off the stove.

Awkwardly, she paused in front of the fridge. "You want anything?" she asked Jack, unsure exactly how one was supposed to treat a legend.

He smirked at her, lounging on his chair in completely the wrong way. "I'm fine."

"Oh, come on, I can't just sit there and eat while you don't!" Sam said, annoyed. Yes, she _could_, but she didn't want to- and she felt very annoyed at this rather persistent Jack Frost.

Sam glanced around before her eyes landed on the freezer. Hmm...

With abrupt, curt gestures, she opened the freezer drawer and rifled around for a bit- before picking out a pint of vanilla ice cream that had been on sale last week and none of them had gotten to yet. She slammed the drawer shut and slid the pint aross the table at him, followed by a spoon.

"There. Knock yourself out."

Self-appeased, Sam plopped down and began spooning chicken noodle into her mouth, suddenly ravenous. Ah, well. Aftermath of adrenaline, she guessed. Swallowing, she pointed at the two across from her.

"Okay. We have food, I'm hungry, you're not. Spill."

Jamie shifted awkwardly in his seat, playing with his soup. "Well- it all started two years ago. It was three days before Easter-"

For the next hour, Sam listened in astonishment as Jamie's tale of magic, evil, and general saving the world unfolded. Occasionally, she noticed her cooling soup and ate a few more bites, but in general, it was forgotten. She almost couldn't believe Jamie's story- except for three things. One- she saw things like Jamie did all the time. Two, Jack Frost was sitting right across from her. Three- well, this was _Jamie_.

When he finished, Sam's eyes were wide. "Alright. That's- that's pretty amazing."

Jamie blushed and looked embarassed. "It wasn't that much."

Sam opened her mouth to contradict him, but Jack got there first. "Nah. You were key to the whole thing! After all, you were the kid who refused to stop believing. And you're the first person who ever saw me. That makes you pretty important in my book."

Jamie looked up at him with a mix of adoration and disbelief. "Really?"

"Yeah." Jack said simply, playing with his staff, which he'd refused to let go of. Sam felt her estimation of him go up several notches. She'd thought he was just like the other winter creatures she'd met- full of self interest and passion for amusing themselves at the expense of others. Obviously, there was more to him then she thought.

"Alright then," She said, turning her gaze to him. "What's your story?"

Jack shrugged wordlessly, suddenly absorbed in staring at his staff, or the wall, or anywhere but her. "Not much. What's yours?"

Sam crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair. "You first."

"Really?" Jack said, a smirk returning to his face, suddenly chasing away the solemn expression that had slipped onto it. "You're gonna be that childish?"

"_I'm_ childish?" Sam said in astonishment, before rolling her eyes. "I should have known."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jack asked testily.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "I'll go first, then. Do you want to hear or not?"

The smirk reappeared. "Shoot."

"Long story short, so this doesn't take until midnight, I was born in Michigan to a single mother. She and my grandmother died in a fire- I escaped by the roof and got several -ah- _souveniers_ from the experience. Wouldn't recommend it." Sam said sardonically, taking a deep breath to steady her heart, which was beginning to race at the memory of the fire.

"I ended up in the hospital for two weeks or so; ran away from the funeral and into one of you guys." She nodded at Jack. "I was the first mortal in a century who could see her- she told me that I was gifted, and we got to know each other. She's my best freind- still comes around. Anyway, went around to relatives houses for years, mostly in the southwest, and eventually I ended up here, just 'cause my family got tired of me. Been living her for three and a half months, decided to go for a walk in the woods this morning, and met you after you decided to 'rescue' me from that thing. So, here we sit; you know the rest, End of Story."

Sam finished her condensed story and got up, clearing away dishes and food from the table. Jack watched her for a moment, and not because- alright, not _just_ because he still thought she was sort of pretty. He noticed that she seemed sad- three hundred years of observing the world had given him a pretty good grasp on body language.

Well, being effectively rejected by your family would make anyone sad, he supposed. Being alone- he remembered it all too well.

But this wasn't the best time to offer personal remarks. He cleared his throat to ask a question.

"How long have you- been able to see things? Like me, I mean. I've just never heard of it before."

Sam shrugged, putting the bowls in the sink. "All my life. I just took it for granted, I guess, until Amay explained it. The Shadows, though-" Sam shuddered. "Those show up wherever I go. I don't know when or if they will- they've just been around since the fire."

Jack frowned. Her reference to the wraith thing as a 'Shadow' reminded him vaguely of Pitch. And anything connected to the still dangerous threat was important.

He opened his mouth to say something about the pole- but Sam beat him to it.

"It's gonna be dark soon," She said, coming back over to the table. "I've gotta go pick up your sister, Jamie. I'll leave you two alone- just don't let Snow Miser over there freeze the kitchen or something."

"Hey!" Jack protested again. Really, was the girl determined to hold a grudge against him?

Jamie laughed. "Jack wouldn't do that." He defended loyally.

Sam snorted doubtfully. "If you say so. The things I've seen Winter creatures do- anyway. Have fun." She said, before shrugging her coat back on and slipping out to the front room.

Jack watched her go, before shouting- "I'll come with you!"

He grinned when her heard something sounding vaguely like a rather potent insult directed at him- and then noticed how Jamie's face had fallen.

"But, Jack-" The sixth grader trailed, face a mask of dissapointment. Jack glanced back toward Sam- then crouched down in front of his believer.

"I'll make it snow tomorrow, okay?" he whispered conspiritorily.

Jamie nodded, slowly. "You promise, right?"

"Right." Jack said, before standing up. "Don't get into trouble."

Jamie rolled his eyes- three guesses where he learned that. "I won't."


	10. Chapter 10: What Nightmares Hate

**Soory it took so long for me to update- School has just been swamping me. Anyway, finished this. Please review- I refuse to hold chapters for ransom, but reviews mean a lot. If just half the people who favorited this story or just a third of those who follow it reviewed each chapter, this story would have over/close to a hundred reviews in three chapters. Thanks- I'm done begging now! ;)**

**Luv ya!**

* * *

Jack floated beside Sam in the frosty air as she trekked to Sophie's daycare, watching her curiously. This girl was intriguing. Sam didn't say much as they walked; her only response to his accompanying her was to raise an eyebrow- but hostility didn't radiate off of her, which he supposed was something.

For a bit, they simply walked in silence, Sam's breath making smoky white clouds as she pretended to ignore the supernatural boy walking beside her. Jack, meanwhile, didn't try to engage her in conversation. He was pondering whether or not to let Sam know about the rest of the Guardians- that she could ask them for help. If she would even want to- speaking from his admittedly limited experience, she seemed like one of those people who preferred to rely on themselves.

The sun was low when they reached the right street. Jack, deciding that letting her know was the best idea, wondered how to put what he wanted to say.

"Um- Sam?"

"Yes?" The word was muffled by the scarf she wore, but understandable. Her head turned in his direction, her unusual silvery gray eyes catching and throwing off the light of the streetlamps.

"I have some friends who can help- with the shadows."

Sam stopped dead, and turned to face him fully, surprise and doubt in her expression. "What? Who?"

Sam, despite the ruthless effort she made to quash it, felt the tide of hope swell. She preferred not to accept help that could all to easily be turned against her eventually, but after so long facing those- _horrors- _Sam would take any help, and gratefully to. But despite the reasonable expectation that a supernatural creature would know something of how to help her, experience nagged at her not to expect too much to come of it.

Jack leaned on his staff as he answered, meeting her eyes. "The Guardians." he said casually.

Sam's eyes widened- and then she laughed. That surprised him- that and how bitter and full of mocking humor it was. "You're joking. _Them?" _She laughed again, just as mirthlessly. "If they can help, then where have they been? Where were they when I was seeing things no child should be forced to deal with, when the Shadows were chasing me, when the Nightmares were torturing me?" She shook her head. "No; the Guardians haven't bothered to look me up in sixteen years; they're not going to do it now." Those silver eyes glared up at him- yes, up at him, and he wasn't even floating!- with indignation and fury, daring him to challenge her bastion of anger.

Jack blinked at the torrent of bitterness and anger that poured from the delicate looking girl's lips- feeling both guilt and offense as a Guardian: offense at the accusations of neglect Sam had made; guilt that, despite the anger fueling Sam's rant, what she said was true. And, at the same time, he felt a kinship to her emotions. He had been as bitter and angry at the Guardians that had become his family, once- they had abandoned him to be alone for three hundred years.

"Hey," He said gently, projecting the same reassurance and sympathy he had instinctively channeled with Jamie, when they were facing Pitch. "It's not like that anymore."

Sam snorted. "Sure, it's not. Three hundred years and it's just _not like that._ How would you know?"

Jack looked like he had been smacked across the face, and Sam instantly regretted her harsh choice of words.

"Sorry," Sam added quickly, sounding contrite, and regretting loosing control of her temper. "I didn't mean it like that…"

"Nah, It's okay," Jack said, waving off the remark. "I _am_ a Guardian; anyway, that's how I know."

Sam's eyes instantly registered surprise. "Oh! Amay didn't- my friend didn't mention that when she explained the Guardians."

Jack's eyes narrowed momentarily at the mention of Amay- who Sam had been very circumspect about- before he shrugged. "I've only been one for about two years now- that's nothing in the life of an immortal. Two years is practically the evening news."

Sam blinked, as if perplexed by the sudden change in topic- before sighing. "Fine. If you want to tell your fellow Guardians, fine. That's great. Honestly, after ten years, I'd take any help I can get."

"Alright, then," Jack said, feeling, once again, the odd urge to protect- only, this time, instead of Jamie or Sophie, it was this girl he knew practically nothing about; the girl he had met barely three hours ago.

"I'll be back!" He added with an impudent grin to cover the awkwardness he felt, before calling the wind to take him away.

* * *

The wind seemed to sense his urgency; Jack found himself dumped in the snow of the Pole, outside Santoff Clausen, in much less time than it usually took. But he didn't have time to ponder it.

Above him, the misty blue sky seemed close enough to touch, and the city of Santoff Clausen loomed out of the snow on the edge of an enormous cliff, delicate looking towers of burnt gold and crimson red poking out in brilliant colors against the snow and the fifty foot icicles that covered the city.

It had only been two years since Pitch had last appeared- and by all signs, he was not gone. All of the Guardians- North, Sandy, Tooth, and Bunny- they were all alert for any sign of Pitch's return; all guarded against any attack he might make.

As he had so aptly stated, fear could never be erased. And, after being taken relatively by surprise with near disastrous consequences those two years ago, the Guardians were not eager to be taken unawares again.

That was evident here- four yetis, instead of the usual two, guarded the enormous doors. Approaching them, Jack tried not to look to worried. "Hey, guys," He said pleasantly. "I have to go talk to North about... Christmasy stuff, so is it cool if I go in?"

The guards looked at him doubtfully, but let him in without comment. Jack ignored the doubtful looks, slinging his staff casually over his shoulder as he walked through the open doors.

It was weird to just be walking in, especially considering he'd spent a fair portion of his immortal life trying (and failing) to _break_ in. But hey; it was better than being tossed out, and much better than being dumped on the floor in a sack.

Jack walked down a long corridor, carefully avoiding the busy yetis rushing around, and the elves scurrying underfoot causing trouble, before he emerged onto the second level tier above the toy room.

North was nowhere to be seen- and neither were any of the other Guardians. Just busy yetis giving him dirty looks for being in the way of the rushed christmas preparations.

Realizing he was in the way, Jack quickly got out of the yeti's paths, still looking for North, who was not anywhere Jack could see.

_Shoot. I probably should have thought this out-_

"Jack? Jack!" Someone calling his name interrupted his thoughts. He turned around to see a beautifully and vibrantly colored fairy hovering in front of him, with a wide smile and violet eyes sparkling with bubbly energy and excitement.

"Hey, Tooth," Jack said, smiling back at her. Tooth was one of his better freinds among the Guardians- in all honesty, it was hard _not_ to like her. "Is everybody else here?" He asked curiously, wondering, suddenly, if Manny had anything to do with this.

"Of course, silly!" She giggled, grabbing his arm and dragging him behind her off to the elevator. "We were going to have the yearly meeting about Pitch, remember? We were just waiting for you."

Jack winced slightly as he obediently followed- he had totally and completely forgotten. And not on purpose- it wasn't like he kept a day planner or anything. Three hundred years doing whatever he felt like as he felt like it did not mesh well with suddenly having both commitments and responsibilities.

"Yeah," He agreed, trying to cover the slip. "I just got sidetracked for a bit."

Tooth raised a doubtful eyebrow as they stepped out of the elevator and over to the main area where the others had already convened, but said nothing.

* * *

She was sleeping quietly, body still- but the occasional wimper and her pinched expression, even in sleep, betrayed the nightmare she suffered through. The ugly creature stood beside her bed- but oddly, it did nothing but observe, almost impassively.

Hearing the Guardians, the creature's head swung around- before it snorted, almost contemptously, and flew out the window to terrorize some poor other child.

Slowly, Sam's face relaxed. Watching for a moment to make sure the Nightmare was gone, Jack shook Sam's shoulder a little awkwardly, trying to wake her up. Sam murmered something and rolled over- before somehow hitting the play button on the silver Ipod before her, sending a blast of pop music blaring through the earbuds she was wearing.

"What the-" Sam yanked the headphones out of her ears and onto the covers, where they continued to quietly blare Nicki Menaj's latest album as her eyes darted around the room.

Jack hastened to explain. "Umm... Sam.. these are the Guardians."

Sam's eyes widened as she took in the four characters crouched against her wall, before she turned to Jack.

"You know, frostbite, when I said I'd meet them, I didn't say you could bring them to my room. At..." She glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed- "Three bloody am."

Jack smirked, shrugging. "Sorry- the North Pole doesn't have the greatest sense of time in the world." And then he got more serious. "We saw the Nightmare."

Sam shuddered, looking in the direction . "Yeah. That one- I'm quite familar with. It- it brings me the same dream everytime."

"What is it?" Jack couldn't help asking.

"What, you think I'm going to dish my reccurring nightmare out like that?" Sam snapped iritably, then flushed."Sorry. It's three in the morning. I'm crabby." she sighed. "The nightmare's personal. Let's leave it at that."

Unsure of how to reply to that pronouncement, Jack cast about for something to re-direct the conversation with- and found the discarded and still playing iPod.

"What's with Nicki Menaj's latest musical travesty?"

Sam blushed deeper, clicking the iPod off. "It keeps them away. Usually. Apparently, even Nightmares can't stand Nicki's synthesized screeching."

"Really?" Jack asked, intrigued. Who would've thought?

"Oh, yeah. Katy Perry works, too."

Bunny coughed, reminding both teens of the purpose of this visit. "Ah, Sam? May I introduce the Guardians of Childhood." Jack began.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, Nightmares can be repelled using Nicki Manaj and Katy Perry. Rejoice or deal. ;)**


	11. Author's Note and Query

**Hello everyone. Sorry, if you thought this was a long-awaited update! I haven't updated Seeing Beyond in a while, and I feel bad about that. You guys deserve a more consistent author. However, life gets in the way. **

**Now, I have a question. Knowing where I want this story to go and getting there are becoming two different things- however, I have had an idea for a re-writing or re-visioning of this story. As such, and because as readers, this story belongs partly to you, I would like your opinions. **

**Here is what I had in mind. Much of the current plot events will stay the same, however, I would like to make Jamie and friends Sam's age- I feel like that would make a more interesting dynamic. We all know this story is going to be Jack/OC; despite that, I want to inject more of Jamie and Sophie into the mix. The only major events that would be significantly altered would (possibly) be the pond scene and Jamie's parts; there would be judicious re-working of the scenes at social services.**

**Please review or PM with your opinions, because as summer is coming up I will have more time to continue the story if I can start revising or writing now. **

**Thanks!**

**~ Also, as a side note, I was thinking of starting a tumblr blog for my stories- previews, outtakes, art and so forth. How many of you would read/visit it?**


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